Like an out-of-sorts dog, I’ve circled a few dozen times and finally settled at my temporary writing space. Settled for now. As I type this, my brain is screaming at me to open another tab on the browser, look at houses for sale in my area, put some music on, have lunch… The voice in my head is a pain in the butt. (It’s made a reappearance over the last few months while I’ve been slack about doing my Morning Pages.) When I’m working it tells me to goof off, when I’m doing anything other than writing it tells me I am a failure and I always will be. My inner voice is such a jerk.
This new abode is temporary also. A rental for a year until we buy. I hope. Hubby says finding a house to rent is a #firstworldproblem but you know what? It’s not. Having a roof over your head is a basic requirement along with safety, food and water, but yeah, I get it. He’s Mister Glass-Half-Full and I’m Mrs Hey-Is-That-Poison?
Before we moved we took a few days off to gather our strength, heading to the Sunshine Coast in Queensland. It was divine.
We also stayed overnight with friends, enjoying a lovely dinner. We slept well, awakening to bird song in the morning. There house is lovely. On the bathroom wall there was a little plaque that read,
Some people look for a beautiful place, others make any place beautiful.
It hit me in a way only a clichéd expression on a novelty plaque can, that I am the opposite; always looking for a beautiful place but rarely making a place beautiful. I’m messy. I have a magnet on my fridge that reads ‘A tidy house is a sign of a wasted life.’ I am most definitely not a neat freak. I was thinking about this a lot over the following days as I looked around the lovely apartment we stayed in overlooking the beach. Clothes strewn all over the bedroom, shoes piled up in the entry, books piled on the bedsides and all that in just 4 days!
I hate food courts, seeking out an aesthetically pleasing cafe or restaurant with a view when I can. Shopping malls give me the creeps. I have a fear of dying in a shopping mall. Give me a cute high-street any day. I prefer train journeys to road trips because then you don’t have to see service stations and parking lots. I prefer cinemas to Drive Ins, would rather have 10 basic clothing items that a wardrobe full. Vacations visiting temples and museums, staying in a beautiful hotel rather than back-packing or package tours, but then that might just be age! I’d love to walk the Camino in Spain but the idea of staying in a hostel and not having a hot shower at the end of the day leaves me cold.
I seek beauty, sure, but how much am I bringing to the table?
Looking for a rental was a frantic process with very little regard to aesthetics; I just wanted a house with a pool. I also wanted something a little down-market, so I didn’t have to worry about keeping it in perfect order like the last place. I don’t mind being a bit scruffy; it means we can relax. The new place is…quirky. It’s close to work, has a pool and enough bedrooms, and it’s a bit scruffy like me!
To be honest I have navigated this week by pretending we have moved to a house in France with all the quirks that entails. We have an eccentric farmer-landlord, power-points in the linen closet (and ones on the walls that don’t work…), an overgrown garden, and a shower that you have to run around in to get wet.
And now we get to make it beautiful with laughter, friends, music, food and lots of writing. I’m thinking that saying might have been metaphorical.
Feature Image – Noosa National Park by Christine Betts